


Supernatural Activity at Shermer High

by Sunwarmed_Ash_tree_and_the_dreaming_Stag



Category: Supernatural, The Breakfast Club
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, HIV+ Bender, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of drugging, Mentions of homophobia, PTSD Bender, Prostitute!Bender, Romance, Smut, case!fic, crossover fic, everyone lives and is safe, mentions of abuse, mentions of gore, mentions of torture, werewolfs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8622850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunwarmed_Ash_tree_and_the_dreaming_Stag/pseuds/Sunwarmed_Ash_tree_and_the_dreaming_Stag
Summary: A werewolf takes the Winchester boys to Shemer High School where they meet a kid named Bender, with much more to him than meets the eye.





	1. An unexpected turn of events

**Author's Note:**

> I've never successfully written a crossover before but I'm actually quite proud of this one. I hope you enjoy it too. 
> 
> It takes place in Shemer Illinois, where a werewolf brings the Winchesters to Shermer High School. Takes place in the early 2000s
> 
> HIV+ Characters TW  
> Child abuse (physical and sexual) TW
> 
>  
> 
> I'd like to add a disclaimer: I am not HIV+. Everything I know about HIV/AIDS is from what I've researched on my own and taken from Queer as Folk. I apologize if anything is incorrect. It is not my intention to misrepresent.

Sam and Dean rolled upon a horribly maintained, one-story, home around noon Sunday morning. The shutters, those that were still attached, probably hadn't been painted in over 10 years. The lawn was overrun with yellowing crab grass and white fluffy dandelions. The screen door had a slash diagonally through the center that was probably caused by a pocketknife of some sort. And to top off the picture perfect portrait of south side poverty, a torn, tattered, and stained loveseat was perched just feet from the front door. 

"Talk about white trash," Dean muttered to Sam, eyeing the yard from the safety of their vehicle.

"Do we really need to talk to this guy?" Dean swallowed, nodding his head towards the incredibly large, incredibly angry looking man sitting on the porch, a lit cigar and small bottle of cheap booze in hand. It reminded Dean of his father, and he physically shuddered, as if he could shake the bad memories from his mind.

"Yes Dean," Sam sighed, straightening his tie. "We know the werewolf was in Shermer High yesterday. There were only 5 kids in detention, so chances are one or all of them saw it, even if they don't want to admit it. We only have 30 hours until the end of the lunar cycle so we need all the intel we can get."

"Alright, alright," Dean grumbled, fixing his own tie and jacket as well, "What are we pretending to be today?"

"Well, it's a high school, so truant officers? Kids ditch class all the time. Wouldn't be that hard to believe."

"Good point. Alright, let's get this over with."

As the two approached the porch, the man seemed to grow angrier. Dean had a gut feeling this would undoubtably end in a fist fight.

"Uh, excuse me, sir? Is there a John Bender here," Sam asked, trying to keep the waver out of his voice.

"Who's asking?" The older man gruffed, crushing out his cigar and taking a swig of the dark liquid.

"We're truant officers," Dean offered, but the man didn't understand and seemed to take it as a threat, if his balled fists were any indication.

"The hell does that mean?!"

Dean had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

"They send us when students miss a certain number of days of school," Sam offered politely, since it was obvious Dean wasn't going to do it without sarcasm.

Dean could of _sworn_ he heard an actual growl from the gruff man as he stood on shaky legs, slamming down his bottle.

"BOY! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE NOW!" He bellowed, and Dean's hands tightened into fists reflexively.

Moments later, a kid, wearing a short sleeved shirt despite the weather, emerged from behind the torn screen door.

"W-What do you need dad?"

The kid eyed Sam and Dean nervously, trying very hard to hide behind his full head of hair.

_Shit, the kids was probably as long as Sam's._

"These boys here say you've been ditching school," he slurred and Bender's eyes got wide.

"No! No I haven't I swear!"

John's hands quickly went up in defense but it wasn't fast enough. A large hand smacked across the kids face and Sam and Dean watched in horror as the kid crumpled where he stood.

"DON'T YOU LIE TO ME BOY!" He screamed, yanking John up by his shirt and threatening him with another backhand.

It took Dean a moment for the shock to fade and register what the hell just happened. He instinctively reached for his gun, but Sam smacked his hand away. He couldn't just shoot the man on his front porch.

"YOU DITCH SCHOOL TO WHORE AROUND AGAIN, DIDNT YOU!" The man screamed, balling his hand into a fist and punching John square in the jaw.

Dean saw red, and then he moved. He yanked John free from his fathers grasp and put himself in front, just in case the man decided to swing again. But thanks to Sam, he never got that chance.

Sam had the two hundred pound man pinned with his hands around his back in a tight hold and his face in the dirt.

"FUCKING WORTHLESS EXCUSE FOR A SON!" He spat, struggling hard in Sam's grasp, "PROBABLY RIDDLED WITH AIDS!"

Dean did pull out his gun now, pressing the barrel against the man's forehead. He had just about enough of this shit.

"Sam?" He asked and Sam nodded, understanding exactly what Dean was asking.

"Kid, grab what you need, you're coming with us."

Bender looked back and forth between the two older men and his dad. He wasn't sure he trusted the strangers, but they were officers, and anything was better than being stuck here another day.

He bolted from the front lawn to his bedroom, stuffing his coat, scarf, and a few odds and ends into a barely held together backpack. He was nearly halfway down the stairs before he remembered. He ran back up, snatched the half empty bottle of pills and shoved them in his pocket, making his way to the front door. When Bender reached the bottom of the stairs, the men were placing a limp version of his dad on the couch.

"Is he-" Bender swallowed hard.

"No, just passed out," Sam said, putting his hands in his pockets and trying to look less intimidating. "He'll be fine, but I dont know when he'll wake up. So we should probably get going..."

Bender looked from Sam, to Dean, then to his father before nodding.


	2. Hunters

After high tailing it out of the neighborhood, Dean stopped to call Bobby. Someone else would have to hunt the werewolf, they had much bigger problems to handle right now.

"Bobby- look, it's not even that big of a case. Look, can't you just put Garth on it? He loves that shit. Yeah yeah, well- I'll explain later ok? Something else...came up. Ok, thanks Bobby."

Dean snapped his phone closed and sighed. Bobby said he would call Garth but it was no guarantee, seeing as he just finished a Rugaru case in Fort Collins, Colorado. There's no way he'd get there in time.

His eyes shot to the rearview mirror, eyeing the kid in the backseat who looked even paler than before.

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. He knew he should say something. They were the ones who got the kid hit in the first place. Dean should at least apologize.

"So... John," Dean tried, only to get his head bitten clean off by the kid.

"Don't call me that," He snapped, and Dean backpeddled.

"Um, ok. What would you like me to call you?"

The kid was quiet for a while, and Dean was certain he was ignoring him on purpose, until a barely audible "Bender" escaped tightly pursed lips.

"Bender? Ok, well my name is Dean, this is Sam. We uh, we owe you an apology."

"For what?" The kid looked back at Dean in the mirror. "You got me out of there didn't you?"

Dean's eyes automatically landed on Bender's jaw, already starting to darken in anticipation of a bruise.

"Yeah but, we got you hit..."

Bender's immediate laughter threw both of the boys off guard.

"You think _you_ did that?" Bender sputtered, "Buddy, that shit would of happened if you were there or not. That dick using me as his punching bag isn't exactly news. So stuff your guilt, your pity, and your apology, I don't need it."

"Uh- alright then."

The car was filled with an awkward silence that made everyone on edge. Dean, not knowing what else to do, fired up the engine and just started driving.

-*-

Bender watched the trees pass by in a rapid pace as they got further and further out of town. While getting away should of relaxed him, it only made him more anxious. He needed a cigarette.

"Can I smoke in here?"

"Absolutely not," Dean immediately snapped and Bender's hands went up in surrender.

"Fuck, okay. Forget I asked." He muttered, yanking on his large jacket and slumping against the car window.

"Hey, how old are you?" Sam asked, desperately trying to ease the conversation into a lighter one.

"How old do you want me to be?" Bender replied automatically, mentally cursing himself for his usual answer. If they had any doubts about him hustling, they probably didn't now.

"17," he said with a clearing of his throat.

"We were uh, we were thinking of hitting a diner, maybe getting some lunch. How does that sound?" Sam asked, a kind smile on his face.

Bender would be lying if he said it didn't sound amazing. He couldn't even remember the last time he had something in his stomach that wasn't beer.

"Fine I guess," He shrugged nonchalantly, hoping they didn't hear his stomach growl.

-*-

They arrived at a place called Mel's, apparently world famous for their waffles.

They picked a corner booth, which Bender was thankful for. He really didn't need anyone recognizing him, from school or 'work.'

  
"Morning boys, can I get you something to drink?" A perky blonde waitress asked, her curls bouncing with every step. It made Bender want to barf.

"Black coffee," Bender and Dean said at the same time, making Sam nearly burst out laughing. The identical glares they shot Sam didn't help the laughing situation at all.

"Make it three please," Sam smiled, hoping to cut the awkwardness.

"You got it." She smiled, walking off with a bounce in her step.

-*-

Three black coffees were served, along with an obscenely large amount of eggs, bacon, and waffles. Sam didn't think anyone could put away more food than Dean, but here was this kid, giving him a run for his money.

"So, how long have you been truant officers?" Bender asked after a few bites, mood significantly lightened now that he had food and caffeine in him.

"About that..." Sam shot Dean a look, suggesting maybe they should come clean.

"Sam..." Dean warned, giving Sam a hard stare.

"Dean, we just kidnapped him from his home! Don't you think he at least deserves the truth!"

"Hey keep your voice down!" Dean scolded, checking quickly that the other booths didn't hear.

Bender watched the interaction suspiciously. His fists tightened around his silverware, incase he needed them later. This wasn't the first questionable situation he'd been in, and he desperately hoped it wouldn't be his last.

Sam was the first to notice the shift in Bender's behavior and held up his hands in surrender, trying to look less threatening.

"Bender, we're good guys alright? Listen, we wanted to ask you about what happened in detention."

That didn't ease Bender's tension in the slightest. Who the hell were these guys, and why did they know so much about him?

"Did you see anything...out of the ordinary maybe?" Sam asked, still keeping his hands raised.

"What do you mean?" Bender asked, mentally recalling the events. He didn't know what he saw, not really. And even if he told them, no way in hell they'd believe he saw a- a monster...

"Honesty it is," Sam sighed. Bender saw something, he could tell. And this schtick that he and Dean had perfected over the years was not flying. At least not with this kid.

"We're hunters." Sam explained, pointedly ignoring Dean's clank of silverware and aggravated huff.

"And not in the way you're probably used to hearing. We hunt-" Sam looked around before lowering his voice, "monsters. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, all of them. We have since we were kids. We've been following a werewolf for the past month, tracked him down to Shermer. The thing about werewolves is, they have very specific hunting patterns. They change based on the lunar cycle which means we only have a small window of opportunity to hunt them before they go dormant again. Is this- making any sense?" Sam laughed, it even sounded ridiculous to his own ears.

Bender rolled his silverware in his hands, subconsciously chewing the inside of his cheek. Monsters weren’t real, no way. He was probably just hallucinating that night. It happened when he had too much to drink and no food in him for several days.

Plus, there was no way in hell there were people who actually hunted monsters for a living.

"You're lying," He growled.

Dean spoke up this time.

"Listen kid, I honestly don't give a rats ass whether you believe us or not. Most people don't, which is why we agreed not to waste time explaining," He said pointedly, shooting a glare at Sam. "Now just tell us what you saw and we can get on our way and out of your life."

Bender thought about that. While it would be nice to get away from these two questionable guys, them leaving also they meant he'd have to go home. And he had a sick feeling about the beating that was waiting for him there.

"No," he said firmly, crossing his arms across his chest, "you're gonna prove it to me. I'm going with you."

"The hell you are!" Dean's laugh was humorless, and his glare was downright scary, but Bender held his ground.

"Why? Because it's 'dangerous?' Do you honestly believe I'm safer going home? After the shit you guys pulled?"

Dean's mouth snapped shut, and the guilt sunk in his stomach like a stone. The kid had a point. He knew a thing or two about drunk abusive dads, and a part of him screamed to protect this kid at all costs. Just like he'd done with Sammy his entire life.

"Fine." Dean said, crossing his arms across his chest. Sam's head snapped up and his eyes bugged wide.

"What!?"

"Sam, you saw that bastard! He's gonna be _pissed_ when he wakes up! You really want to send the kid home? To _that_?!"

Sam swallowed hard, Dean was right. They couldn't take him home. Not now. There wasn't really any other option. 

"Fine."

-*-

"So, there was a full moon here last night right?" Sam asked once the metaphorical dust cleared.

"Yeah. So...?"

" _So_ , that gives us less than 28 hours to track this wolf down and gank him. Awesome," Dean huffed, shoving his plate forward.

"Yeah. Other than his hunting patterns, we don't know anything about him. He could be literally anyone in this town."

Bender watched the two space out as if they were trying to solve some complex riddle. "Or you could you know, ask me. It's why I'm here isn't it?" Bender said in a tone that suggested it was the most obvious thing ever.

"Thought you said you didn't see anything," Dean challenged, and Bender's eyes went down in what was probably embarrassment and frustration.

"It's Dick," He muttered out, pushing away his own silverware.

"You wanna run that by me again?"

"Vernon. He's the fucking vice principal of my school. The one that gave me detention. It's him."

"Bender," Sam started gently, not wanting to piss off the temperamental man, "you have to be _sure_. If we hunt him, and he's not a werewolf, he could still bleed to death. You can't accuse someone just because of a grudge..."

"IT'S NOT A FUCKING GRUDGE!" Bender shouted, slamming his fists hard on the table, causing everyone in the diner to look at them.

Bender looked the two 'hunters' dead in the eye and yanked up his sleeve, exposing three very long, very distinct lines of scratch that could only come from some sort of animal claw.

"It's not. A fucking. Grudge," Bender nearly ground out, pulling his sleeve back down before exiting the diner in a flustered rush. "I'll be in the car when you finally get your heads out of your asses.”


	3. Of Monsters and Winchesters

Sam and Dean exchanged worried looks, both sharing identical thoughts.

"Did you see-" Sam asked, referring to the numerous number of cigar and cigarette burns that littered Bender's arm under the werewolf scratches.

"Yeah," Dean frowned, scrubbing a hand down his face.

"Looks like we got him out of there just in time," Sam said sullenly and Dean's hands clenched in response.

"Yeah, but I have a feeling keeping him out won't be as easy."

Dean threw down a couple of twenties and grabbed his coat, sliding out of the booth for Sam.

-*-

When they entered the parking lot, Bender wasn't in the car, he was leaning up against it having a cigarette. Dean sent him a subconscious glare and Bender raised a challenging eyebrow.

"You said no smoking in the car. What, I can't smoke outside now?"

"You shouldn't be smoking period," Dean said reflexively, shuddering at how much he sounded like a parent.

"Whatever. You're not my fucking dad," Bender said just as quickly, putting out the butt on the heel of his boot. “We going or not?" He asked, impatiently pulling on the door handle.

Dean bit back a growl and nodded, unlocking his side first just to take longer. This kid was really getting on his nerves.

* * *

They road in silence for a while, the tension so thick you'd need a steak knife to cut through it. Dean drove for nearly 10 miles before he realized he had no idea where they were headed.

"You uh, got an address?" Dean asked, peeking at a brooding Bender in the back seat.

"I'll tell you when to turn," was all he said and Dean got the feeling he was being intentionally difficult.

"We got GPS kid, you can just give us the address-"

"I don't _know_ the address ok? I just, remember the turns and how long it takes to get there. Now shut it, you're distracting me."

Dean fell silent again, but something in his gut told him there wasn't something quite right about what Bender just said.

They drove another few quiet miles, turned left, then right at the fork, left again after two stop signs, and pulled up into a dirt driveway, the lights both in and outside the house off.

"You sure he's home?" Sam asked, hoping he wasn't already out hunting.

"I'm sure," Bender sighed, shrugging off his long coat, clad only in the short sleeved plaid shirt and torn jeans from earlier.

Sam raised his eyebrow but didn't say anything. It had to be below freezing this time of night. Why was he taking clothes off? He also noticed Bender's demeanor change. His posture was more tense, the lines in his face more pronounced despite his age, and his hands seemed to tremble at his sides. Though Sam wasn't sure if that was from the cold or not.

"You guys are gonna cover me right?" Bender asked, his voice shakier than before.

"Yeah, of course. Don't go in yet though, wait for us."

Bender shook his head. "No, I gotta go alone. Just hurry ok? And shut off your car."

Without another word, Bender jogged to the front door, reaching in his pocket for the house key and jamming it in the lock, turning it with practiced ease. He took a couple of deep breaths before pushing his hand through his hair and attempting to make himself more presentable before walking into the dark house.

-*-

Sam watched until Bender disappeared into the house before speaking to Dean in a harsh whisper.

"Dean, what the hell is going on with this kid? He's got a key? To his _principals_ house? And how come he only knew how to get here by the turns Dean? That sounds like something a kidnapping victim would tell a cop on a crime drama! This has _bad_ written all over it."

"Listen, I don't know Sam, but right now we got a small window to catch and kill this son of a bitch. And maybe help this kid out too. We can deal with the rest later. Come on."

Dean shoved a pistol loaded with silver bullets into Sam's hand before shutting the trunk, following Bender's lead into the house.

* * *

The house was pitch black inside, but even more worrisome, it was silent. The only perceivable noise in the place was Sam and Dean's practiced, feather-light footsteps, and that was a bad sign.

"Sam, something's wrong."

Sam didn't get a chance to agree before a blood curdling scream cut through the silence, coming from somewhere in the other room. There was a distinct sound of something or _someone_ falling to the floor, and a growl fierce enough to send shivers down the boys spines.

"Move Sam, move!"

Dean kicked open the door to the adjacent room, gun and flashlight drawn, only to find it empty. He kicked the next closest door to find it was a pantry, also empty. He kicked through one more and then he saw them.

The werewolf looked mostly human, minus his yellow eyes, sharp teeth, and claws. There was blood dripping from the tips of his claws, which was more than likely Bender's. The wolfs other paw was pinning down a distressed and bleeding Bender.

Dean didn't waste any time, he unloaded nearly his entire clip into the creature, only stopping when Sam's shouting cleared his muddled headspace.

The creature hissed and snarled during the attack, but was now in a lifeless heap, half on top of Bender. When Dean was sure it was dead, he rushed to Bender's side, wanting to inspect the injuries and stop the bleeding as soon as possible.

-*-

Bender blinked a few times to no avail. The images in front of him were still just as blurry as they were after Vernon knocked him flat. Maybe he busted something in his brain, knocked a few wires loose or something. He registered shouting above him, along with the sound of gunfire, again and again. Bender wondered curiously if he'd been shot, but his body was so numb he didn't think he'd notice if he was.

There was movement again, and a weight was lifted from his legs. At least he could still feel those. He was able to pick out Dean's voice though the fog, and the images slowly became clearer.

Dean was above him now, tearing off his overshirt to probably inspect whatever part of Bender that was bleeding. He couldn't see or really feel where, but he could definitely smell it.

The closer Dean got, the louder the alarm bells became in Benders skull and soon he was shouting at Dean to get away, and not to touch him.

-*-

"He's going into shock Dean, you have to-" Sam tried to reason but Dean stopped him. He knew that already.

"N-No, stop!" Bender shouted weakly, his voice hoarse from screaming.

"Hey kid, it's alright we're just trying to help you." Dean consoled, analyzing the best way to stop the chest bleeding without lifting him, in case his back or neck was broken.

"Ok Bender, I'm just going to stop the bleeding ok? I'm not going to hurt you-"

"DEAN! Don't! Please," Bender choked out, eyes brimming with tears, “I’m positive.”

He prayed for Dean to understand, to move back and leave him be. He didn't, and tried to reach for Bender again.

"Yeah well, I'm positive I'm not letting you die here." He said, moving to put his hand over the wound. Until he was yanked back by his brother.

Dean may not have understood, but Sam did. He stopped Dean before he could physically touch Bender.

"Dean dont, he's got HIV," Sam said calmly, calmer than Bender expected, calmer than what usually followed this type of news.

Dean's hands yanked back like he was burned and his face twisted in disgust. Bender tried not to take it personally, but it was hard not to. He spared what was left of his energy and let his eyes slip closed, shivering hard against the floorboards. He was dying, he could feel it. But maybe this was a long time coming.

-*-

Dean watched Benders eyes flutter closed and instantly shifted into protector mode. "Sam we can't just leave him here!" Dean barked in a harsh whisper.

"Well I don't intend to! But you need gloves, or a blanket or something. You can get sick too if you're not careful!"

"I don't really give a damn about me right now Sam," Dean growled, yanking away from Sam and tearing off his flannel shirt.

"Bender? Hey kid, stay with me. I need to know if you can move your legs before I lift you. We're getting you to a hospital, don't worry. Can you move them?"

Bender's eyes fluttered and he tried to get Dean away, but he didn't have the energy to form words at the moment.

"Hey, it's alright. Don't try to talk. Blink once for yes and twice for no. Can you move your legs?"

Bender blinked once, and that's all Dean needed.

Dean had Bender wrapped and in the back seat of the impala in two minutes flat. He tossed his keys to Sam and ordered him to drive to the nearest hospital.

Bender's lips were blue, and Dean's shirt was already soaked through. They were dangerously close to running out of time, but he'd be damned if he told the kid that.

"Hey, hey you're ok. You're gonna be fine," He promised, holding on to the kid tighter before shouting at Sam to drive faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, currently working on the confessions and hospital bit. I'm hoping I'll have it up soon but it depends on work and the holidays this week.


	4. Making a break for it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever, I hope you're liking it so far.

Bender woke up to the sounds of a steady beeping and the overwhelming smell of bleach. Everything hurt, but he was relieved to find he could move anything. Images of the night before began to float to the surface of his memory, and he almost convinced himself he dreamt it all. That his dad had just wailed on him too hard again, but this time the neighbors called the cops. He was sure it was a dream now, until he caught sight of the two leather and plaid sleeping lumps in the corner of his hospital room.

He blinked a few times, trying to wrap his head around what happened. All it took was a shift in the wrong direction for the pain to return and the waves of reality to crash over him. Vernon, the werewolf, Dean wrapping him up in his jacket even after he begged him to stay away, the rough ride to the hospital and finally, Dean screaming at a doctor when they wouldn't take his blood was the last thing he remembered before everything went black.

He was able to move his head without too much pain and see an IV along with a blood bag of AB negative. He _would_ have the rarest blood type. The bill would probably cost a fortune. 

He saw one of the Winchesters move out of his perifiral and panicked. What if they were pissed he made them come here? What if the hospital thought _they_ hurt him? What if the hospital called his old man and he had to go home?! His breathing spiked and he could feel the beginnings of a panic attack start to take effect.

-*-

The rapid beeping of the EKG woke Sam from his nap on the hospital chair. It was incredibly uncomfortable, especially with his size, but he'd slept in worse conditions. Besides, the hospital staff was already kind enough to let them stay until Bender woke up, and he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He brushed his long hair out of his face and quickly moved to Bender's bedside. 

"Hey, hey shh you're ok," Sam soothed, touching Benders shoulder lightly, hoping he didn't freak the kid out too much.

 

"S-Sam?" Bender blinked up at the taller man, calming a little when he felt a familiar presence.

"Yeah hey kid, you're alright. They got you stitched up pretty good. You lost a lot of blood though, they were able to find you a donor in time."

"Why wouldn't they take Dean's?" He croaked, voice raw from screaming.

"You remember that huh? I guess uh, they wouldn't let him donate until they tested him for HIV. Hospital policy."

Bender's heart lodged in his throat. "I didn't- I didn't, did I? I told him not to! Sam, I warned him!"

"Hey, it's alright," Sam soothed, not liking how fast his pulse was spiking. "I know, but Dean is stubborn. He didn't get any in his mouth or eyes and he didn't have any open wounds. It's incredibly unlikely he caught it. So don't beat yourself up about it."

"Would it kill them to get more comfortable chairs?" Dean woke up almost right as his name was mentioned, rubbing his eyes and cracking his back in the uncomfortable chair.

Bender's throat dried at the sight of Dean. He was riddled with so much guilt he couldn't even look at him, let alone talk to him. Luckily the doctor walked in just then, so he didn't have to.

"You're awake," the blonde doctor smiled, his accent thick and rich, "how are you feeling?"

"Like I got attacked by a werewolf," Bender groaned, watching Sam and Dean's bodies stiffen.

The doctor just laughed, increasing his morphine levels and checking the rest of his vitals.

"When do you think he can be released?" Dean asked, growing more anxious the longer they were there. If they stayed too long, the doctors would run their credit cards and realize they were fake.

"Well, nothing's broken, though he has lost a substantial amount of blood. He'll need another few hours at least, but even then, he'll be weak. I wouldn't suggest moving him."

"I'm right here guys," Bender huffed, trying to sit up only to be forced back down by agony.

"We just really want to take our brother home, is there anyway we can take him home after the transfusion?" Sam said, gaining weird looks from Dean and Bender.

"You're- related?" The doctor asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"He's our half brother," Sam covered quickly, and the doctor thankfully seemed to buy it.

"You can take him after 6."

"Thank you doctor-"

"Chase. And don't thank me, just take care of him," he said, turning and leaving the boys alone.

Bender's vision began blur and he felt his pain start to ebb. It was a nice feeling, to not be in pain, but he didn't like to not be in control of his body. It reminded him of the times he'd been roofied...Bender used the last of his lucidity to rip the morphine needle out of his arm, pain be damned.

"Bender! What the hell are you doing!" Sam shouted, looking around frantically for something to stop the bleeding.

"Don't wanna be-" he slurred, trying to push Sam off but not having the strength, "No-no drugs."

"Ok, no drugs then. Just worry about sleeping ok? Well take care of the rest." Dean spoke up this time, holding Sam's shoulder back.

Bender barely had enough consciousness to nod.

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face with a sigh as Bender fell back under.

“What the hell are we gonna do with him Sam?"

"We can't leave him here Dean! He risked his life to help. Let's make sure he's stable enough and then bring him back to the bunker. He'll be safe there and we can watch over him."

"We aren't babysitters Sam, and he's _sick_. What happens if he gets bad while we're on a hunt? Who the hell is gonna take him to the hospital? He's a liability Sam."

"And what, you've never been one?" Sam fired back, wincing when he saw Dean's face blanch. "How many times have you been possessed or cursed? Either of us. How many times couldn't you trust me because of my blood addiction? We've both been risks and it's not his goddam fault. We owe it to him, at least until he gets on his feet again."

Dean huffed and slumped back in his chair, rubbing his eyes in annoyance. Sam was right, but he still didn't like it. They didn't know a damn thing about this kid except that he hustles for money. He really didn't like the idea of having some stranger roam their home unsupervised. Maybe he could convince Cas to watch him telepathically...

"Alright, alright fine. But we need to get him out of here before the doctor comes back. I don’t want to risk staying until 6.”

Sam agreed and moved to Bender's side shaking his shoulder gently to wake him.

"Hey Bender, we're gonna move you to a safe house we have ok? It's gonna hurt like a bitch to stand but you gotta do it-" he said and moved to wrap an arm under the kid.

Bender yelped as he was moved, the morphine had taken the edge off, but the movement brought all the pain back full force.

"You just gotta make it to the car and we'll put you in the back seat ok?"

Bender tried to nod, but he barely had enough energy to stand, and if Sam and Dean weren't there, he surely would of face planted.

Eventually the pain from movement was too much and Bender fainted, falling limp in the Winchester brothers arms.


	5. Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter as of 9/24/17 has been rewritten. Most things are the same but I added additional backstory for later.  
> TW:  
> Mentions of gore  
> Mentions of torture  
> Mentions of drugging

They drove in silence, and when they got to the bunker in Lebanon, Sam carried Bender to the tiny hospital room they made from an old storage room. With how often they got hurt on hunts, it was almost needed. It had a bed, an old style EKG, and a fold out sofa set up in the corner.

After helping Bender into the bed, Sam took the edge seat and sat, watching Bender carefully.

Dean cleared his throat when Sam didn't follow him to their room.

"I don't want him to wake up alone," Sam explained and Dean rolled his eyes.

"He's not 8 Sam," Dean grumbled and stormed off, intent on taking a shower and downing a six pack.

* * *

Bender woke up in pain, but warm, and surprisingly comfortable. It took his eyes a moment to adjust, but soon it became very apparent he wasn't in the hospital anymore. He bolted upright in fear, instantly regretting it when pain flooded his body.

"Fuck! Fuck..." he whimpered, gripping the edge of the bed hard in efforts to lessen the pain.

Sam was at his side instantly, holding his shoulder gently.

"S-Sam?" Bender blinked, looking over unfamiliar room again.

"Easy, you're in the safe house. You're gonna be aright," Sam said softly and to his surprise, he actually felt calmer. It helped to see a familiar face.

"I know you said no morphine, but I brought the strongest Advil we have," he said and offered the three pills with some water.

Bender looked at the pills with suspicion, but swallowed them anyway, his body too sore to care.

"Thank you," he said, relaxing into the gentle hand on his shoulder. It felt, nice, genuine. But maybe Sam was just waiting for reembursment... Bender didn't have much energy, but it was the least he could do. They got him away from his dad, saved him from dying, and paid for his hospital bills.

He lifted himself up as far as he could before wrapping a hand around Sam's neck and pulling him down, using the last of his energy to crush their lips together.  
Sam blushed hard at the teenagers kiss and in his shock, couldn't react for a fewseconds. He gently held Bender's hand and slowly pulled his lips away.

"Easy kiddo. You're a bit young for me," he said trying to play it off.

"I'm not that young," Bender scoffed, trying not to be offended. Not like anyone else ever cared how old he was.

"Although, I can be whatever age you want me to be Sam." He attempted to sound confident, but Sam picked up on the way his voice started to shake despite. "You might need to help me out of my clothes though, I'm still pretty busted up."

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile and changed the subject.

"Do you want me to get a bath ready?" Sam offered, torn. It's not that he didn't like guys, he did, he just didn't know how much of an open relationship Dean and he had. Sure, Dean would bring home girls every once and a while, but did that apply to guys? Was there an unspoken "no dudes" rule that would later bite him in the ass if he acted on impulse? He didn't have much time to think on it, since in those few moments of distraction Bender had entered his personal space, wrapping a hand around Sam's hip with a confident grin.

"Sure man, whatever you're into," Bender shrugged, "Is it big enough for both of us. If not, that's cool. I've been told I'm pretty flexible."

Sam's breath caught in his throat. The kid was definitely smooth. "Oh I don't doubt that," Sam blushed, taking a chance and letting his hand rest just under Bender's cheek, "But you're healing, I don't want to rip your stitches."

"Shouldn't be a problem if I ride you," Bender smiled, reveling in the shocked expression and dropped jaw he gleaned from Sam. "Mind helping me to the bathroom?"

* * *

Sam turned the water on and let the tub fill. He turned and saw Bender try to hide a wince when he attempted to sit. It made him frown. "How much pain are you in? Really?" He asked softly.

Bender's smile faltered a bit and he shrugged, starting to pull his hospital gown from his torso. "I've had worse, this really isn't that bad. It's not great, but I can manage."

"Worse huh? From your dad I'm guessing?" Sam asked and was rewarded with a sigh and a nod. The kid had it bad. Worse than he and Dean ever did, and their dad was a bastard.

When Bender finished removing his gown, Sam caught a quick glance of his torso, rage building in his chest at the sight.

Most of Bender's chest and back was still covered in dressing, yet a few spots of deep purple and black dared to peek through. When he turned to face the tub, Sam could see the numerous scars that littered his arms, shoulders, and stomach. There were several more burns and self harm scars in addition to the ones he and Dean noticed at the diner.

When he turned, Sam could see a long, healed over slash across Benders lower back that had to be years old. Across from that was a less healed gash, that trailed from his belly button down to his left hip bone. It almost looked like a crude attempt at organ removal. It made Sam sick, there was more damaged skin on Bender then there was undamaged.

Sam tried not to let his gaze linger, but he couldn't help but wonder what the others were from, and if the bastards that gave them to him were still breathing. If they were, Sam vowed it wouldn’t be for much longer.

-*-

Bender could feel Sam’s eyes raking their way over every burn, bruise, and scar that littered his upper torso. He was grateful Sam hadn't said anything yet, but he had a feeling that wouldn't last long. In the small amount of time he spent with the Winchester brothers, Sam seemed like the more touchy feely kinda guy. The kind who would openly express their feelings whenever they felt like it. Bender wasn't sure if that annoyed him or filled him with envy. Either way, it made him feel sick, and soon he was slipping into the bath just to find some coverage from curious eyes.

* * *

The bath was warm and soothing, but also awkward after a while. Sam hadn't actually joined him, but instead sat on the edge and remained silent and brooding. Bender cleared his throat awkwardly in hopes to gain Sam's attention. He felt the need to break the silence before they both exploded.

"So... you and Dean hunt monsters?" He tried, remembering why they even encountered each other in the first place.

Sam let out a laugh and nodded, that had to be a good sign right?

"If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that question..." he smiled, turning his attention to Bender and actually letting his feet in the water now.

"Hey, how about we do this. I'll answer your questions if you answer some of mine. Sound fair?"

"Guess that works," Bender shrugged, desperate for anything to keep the conversation going.

"Well, to answer your question, unfortunately, yes. Basically every creature you've ever heard of or nightmare you've ever had, exists. Dean and I find them, and kill them."

"What about vampires?" Bender asked, half joking but Sam nodded again.

"Yeah, and not the Twilight kind either."

"Ghosts?"

"Definitely. And demons."

Bender shuddered so hard Sam could actually see it across the tub.

"But not all of its bad!" He backpeddled, "There are fairies, good witches, and even some good angels. We're friends with one actually, his name is Cas-"

"Hang on," Bender interrupted, raising a finger to for Sam to stop.

Bender was so pale Sam was worried he would faint.

"You're telling me, not only are there angels, but most angels are _bad_? Aren't they inherently good? Isn't that their whole thing? And not only that, but you're actually friends with an angel? You say it like that's no big fucking deal."

"At this point, when you've seen some of the shit we have, an angel as a friend really isn't that weird. Though the bad angel thing came as a shock to us too. Especially when we first met Cas."

Bender rubbed the bridge of his nose. This shit was too much.

"Well then, if there's good monsters _and_ bad monsters, how do you know who to hunt?"

"House rules," Sam shrugged, "if they kill innocent people or want to, then we kill them."

"Huh." Was all Bender said and Sam sighed in recognition. He'd surely have nightmares tonight. He took pity on the kid and changed the subject. They could always talk about monsters later.

"I think you asked me a few questions," Sam teased gently and watched as the corners of Benders mouth twitched in a small smile.

"Guess I did. Your turn then, fire away. You can ask me whatever you want."

Sam thought about what he wanted to ask. He knew what he wanted to know, he just didn't know how to phrase it. Or if it crossed the line into inappropriate.   

"Sam, we both know you saw them. Just ask."

Sam flushes at getting caught and sighed. He didn't want to come across as insensitive or rude, but he was curious. Painfully so. He took a deep breath before ripping off the metaphorical bandaid.

"What happened?"

Bender's arms crossed his chest and his hands landed on opposite shoulders in a sort of hug form. He almost always did it when he was uncomfortable, and talking about this was definitely uncomfortable.

"Gonna have to be more specific than that Sam, there are a lot of them," Bender whispered out, voice fairly unsteady.

Sam was curious about all of them, but the worst one, the freshest which spanned his hip to his stomach worried him the most. 

"The one across your stomach."

Bender shuddered hard, a large lump forming in his throat. He could still feel the icy cold metal biting into his flesh and the hot pool of blood that began to form under his back as the man cut into his body for sheer enjoyment. He had to grip the side of the tub to keep from fainting. 

"You think you know monsters Sam,” He asked in a voice that seemed absolutely haunted, “Humans are the worst of them all."

"Bender, I’m sorry you don’t have to-”

"I thought he was normal you know? He wasn't much older than me, probably 25, good looking as all hell, charming, fuck rich too. Said all he wanted was a blow job, didn't even need a fuck. But sex outside was for animals, wanted me to come to his place."

"Bender," Sam tried, but Bender kept rambling, enthralled in his own helltale.

"And who the hell am I to say no to a warm fucking house in the middle of winter? Illinois gets fucking cold."

Sam watched as Bender’s unfocused and he seemed to go to another place. His voice sounded miles away and Sam wasn't sure if bringing him out of it was the right more anymore.

"I knew I shouldn't have taken the drink. I know better. But fuck, he was just so, perfect. Right up until he wasn't."

Bender's eyes went hard, and his fists were balling up under the water. 

"The next thing I know, I can't move. But I can feel _everything_. And he's- he's cutting, and I'm screaming, and he's fucking- he's fucking laughing Sam!”

Bender's trembling so hard Sam knows he needs to stop this now. He knows what PTSD looks like, both his brother and his dad have it. And it’s only a matter of time before this divulged into a flashback induced panic attack.

"Bender, Bender! Hey look at me!" Sam said, just loud enough to gain the younger mans attention.

"You're not there, ok? You're in Lebanon Kansas with me and Dean. You're safe."

Bender blinked a few times before shuddering out a harsh breath, gripping Sam's hand like a lifeline. _He wasn’t there. He wasn’t in that basement. He was okay._

"I'm- I'm alright. Thanks." Bender lied, pushing a hand through his hair. "Anyway, that was a little over 6 months ago. I'll tell you though, learned my fucking lesson, stick to fucking in alleyways."

Sam did a double take, his eyes growing wide.

"Y-You didn't stop after that?!"

Bender stared at him like he grew a second head.

"Meds are expensive Sam. A months worth of AZT costs almost $600." Bender explained, like it was the simplest thing in the world to understand.

And now Sam was the one staring. "You had HIV before you started hustling?"

Bender’s eyes darkened, nodding once before hiding back behind his hair.

"I want to stop Sam, but I don't- I don't want to die. And with my background, it's not like someone's gonna hire me! You saw my fucking house. We definitely aren't what you'd call _well off_. I had to do something..."

Sam could of sworn he saw a tear roll down Bender's cheek.

"Hey, hey, shh. It's alright," he whispered, sliding into the tub until he was close enough to embrace Bender. Wet clothes be damned. “You're not gonna die alright? Not on my watch," Sam whispered, holding Bender in a hug as tight as the current damage would allow.


	6. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deans not a bad guy, he's just got a jealously issue, and an inferiority complex, and maybe a bad case of foot in mouth disease.
> 
> *Updated, rape mention tw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone still reading this? Good on you if you are. I would have given up a long time ago. Actually, I did. 
> 
> Also -*- equals a POV change, and ---- is a scene change/passing of time

Dean had been up half the night feeling guilty about the spat Sam and he had about the kid. He had only said those things out of fear, and maybe a tiny bit of jealously, but mostly fear. They weren't equipped to handle something like this. Hunting, monsters, demons, that's the kind of shit they could handle. Not a 17 year old runaway-slash-hooker with a blood disease that could strike him down at any time.

But the more Dean thought about it, the more he realized Sam was right. This kid was like them in a lot of ways. Well, he was like _Dean_. Rough, vengeful, headstrong, and self destructive. With a ticking time bomb hanging over his head to boot. No, scratch that, he _was_ Dean. Maybe that's why Sam gravitated towards him so much, vouched for him and protected him.

That thought had Dean's knuckles popping under pressure. Sam was _his_ goddamn it, not Benders. Jealously raged deep in his gut and it took everything in Dean's power not to go storming into the hospital room and punching the kids face in. He settled on drinking away his anger and hoping Sam would be back in the morning.

* * *

When Dean woke up to a cold and empty mattress, he knew he'd fucked up pretty good. Sam had spent the whole night either with Bender or on the couch. Either way, Sam made a conscious choice not to sleep by Dean last night, and that hurt. Like a solid punch to the gut. Dean knew he had some apologies to make, but he wasn't sure he could form the words just yet. He settled on making burgers as a sign of peace.

Dean balanced three plates full of burgers and three sets of silverware on one arm as he unlocked the hospital room, only to find it empty.

"The hell-" Dean huffed, rearranging the plates before scoping out another room.

He checked room after room only to come up empty on nearly every single one. There was only one more room remaining, with the exception of the garage, and Dean prayed they were there. He didn't think Sam would run off with Bender and leave him high and dry, but after the events of the last 48 hours, he knew anything was possible.

-*-

Bender had finally stopped shaking in Sam's arms and slumped sleepily against Sam's shoulder. He didn't remember the last time he cried like this, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel better. Finally getting some things off his chest made him feel lighter some how, and he had Sam to thank for it. Even if that meant making him admit some dark truths he'd rather keep hidden. He wanted to thank him, but somehow words just didn't seem like enough. Bender had always been better with actions over words, so when Sam started to pull back, Bender held him firm, connecting their lips together again for a searing kiss.

This kiss was much different than the first they shared. The one from earlier seemed one sided, and forced. This kiss had two active participants, and Bender could feel the building desire and passion that was lacking in the first one.

Sam and Bender were so wrapped up in their kiss, neither heard the bathroom door open, though the distinct sound of a sharp intake of breath and a shattering of ceramic had them tearing away from each other.

"SAM! What the hell!?"

Bender's face paled and he tried to cover himself up, feeling even more vulnerable than usual. Probably had something to do with the nudity... But just as he was about to scramble out a desperate apology, Sam was sticking up for him, muttering something about an "open relationship."

Dean's face filtered through several emotions seemingly simultaneously. First was shock, then fear, disgust, realization, followed finally by fury.

"None of my one night stands were hookers Sam! You're really gonna bang a fucking whore? A _sick_ one at that? Aren't you supposed to be smart?"

"Dean! Get out-" he growled, about to rip into his brother but Bender seemed to beat him to the punch. He watched as Bender's head whipped around and he shot Dean a heated glare.

Bender grabbed the closest heavy object he could find, which happened to be a soap dish, and hurled it at Dean, narrowly missing his head by no more than an inch.

Sam watched as Bender used what was probably the last of his strength to lift himself out of the tub and get right in Dean's face.

"HEY _FUCK_ YOU MAN! What, you think I _asked_ for this life? Think I _asked_ to be raped by a low life, sick piece of shit? I don't spend my free time consciously _infecting_ the willing, you know. So don't act like you know a goddamn thing about me asshole, because you don't know shit." 

Bender was seething, barely even registering the identical looks of shock the two brothers shared. He shoved Dean out of the way hard, not even caring that his stitches had torn and were steadily soaking through the bandages. He was leaving a blood trail in his wake but all that mattered to Bender was getting the hell out of there. Immediately. 


	7. Bender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of a filler chapter  
> Bender gets to meet Cas soon!

Bender barely had the dexterity and forethought to grab a towel as he stumbled his way to the 'hospital wing,' slamming the door closed behind him and bolting it.

He struggled to get most of his clothes back on, the slickness of the bath water mixed with blood contributing quite a bit. His shirt was mostly soaked through by the time he was completely dressed but he didn't care, he just needed to get the hell out of here. He slung his bag over his shoulder, reached for the doorknob, and collapsed on the floor in an unconscious heap.

* * *

Bender didn't wake up for 4 days. The fatigue on his body and mind had finally caught up with him. The stitches on his body were mended by Sam and almost completely healed now that he wasn't moving around so much.

He finally opened his eyes on Tuesday, sometime around 7:14 am. He blinked a few times to get his bearings and realized he was in a different room than last time, and he was alone. His fear skyrocketed and he felt the familiar tightening in his chest as a full fledged panic attack began to set in.

-*-

Sam was on his way to the library, looking for the "Extensive Encyclopedia of British Columbia Yeti sightings-" when he passed Bender's room, and picked up on the sound of him shuffling about.

"Bender?" He knocked gently on the door, unsure if he should go inside.  
"Hey, you ok?"

"Sam?" Bender asked, breath coming out short and panicked, "Sam where am I?"

Sam sighed and came in, he didn't want to freak the kid out more. "Hey, shh you're safe ok? There's empty bedrooms all over the bunker. I made a room up for you, it's just down the hall from mine."

He noticed Bender's eyes anxiously dart all over the room and pulled up a chair. He hoped sitting would make him look less imposing.

"How are you feeling? You passed out for a few days."

"You made a room for me?" Bender ignored the question, resting back when he deemed the current situation safe. "W-Why? I figured you guys were kicking me out after I nearly punched your boyfriend."

"Dean wanted to. I told him to fuck off." Sam said firmly. "If you don't feel welcome I won't hold you here. But it would be nice to get the bunker full again. We don't have a lot of people to rely on..."

"Gee I wonder why," Bender mumbled out, mostly referring to Dean's explosive temperament, though Sam's face reveled he took it personally. Feeling guilty, he changed the subject.

"How'd you end up with Dean anyway? Guys an ass, and a fucking hypocrite. If he doesn't want you hooking up with other people maybe he shouldn't either. An open relationship doesn't get to be one sided."

Sam sighed and pushed his hair back. Bender was right, but their relationship was _complicated_ , to say the least. How else do you describe falling in love and fucking your own brother?

"I've known Dean all my life," he started, it definitely wasn't a lie. "He's saved my life a number of times and was there for me when I lost my first girlfriend, and then ou-my dad." He said, unsure whether or not to tell Bender they were brothers. He had probably pieced it together by now, but in the off chance he hadn't...

"We've shared so much it's hard to imagine life without him," Sam finished honestly. "Dean likes to see people as tools. As soon as he finds a "use" for you he'll calm down. Since your in no shape to fight as a hunter at the moment, you could help me on the research end. It's not glamorous by any means, honestly- it's boring as all hell." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously.

"Pass man, if I wanted to do research I'd go back to school," Bender said lightly, attempting to make a joke even if his tone made it fall short. But Sam gave him a gentle smile, and that made Bender feel a little lighter.

"For what it's worth, even if any of that doesn't appeal to you, I'd like you to stay."

Bender could feel Sam getting emotional again, and started to panic, throwing out the first thought that popped into his head. Even if it was the worst possible thing he could have said in that moment.

"It's gotta be weird, fucking your own flesh and blood. And I thought my sex life was fucked up."

Sams face flushed pink and Bender immediately paled, not wanting to piss off the only person in the world who'd ever been nice to him. _Shit shit shit._

"H-Hey, I let guys twice my age fuck me for money so, at least what you guys have is real." He tried, regret and guilt building up in his gut.

Sam stood and managed to force out a smile, trying his best to pass for genuine. But you could cut the awkward fog with a knife. "I trust him, and in this line of work, that's what's most important. Why don't you rest some more. Your body could probably use it."

-*-

Sam didn't come back after that, so Bender spent the rest of the day alternating between thinking and sleeping. He was still exhausted despite sleeping for four days. He wondered if maybe that had something to do with his HIV. The thought alone sent him spiraling into yet another panic attack that left him shaking and gasping.

-*-

Sam had decided to practically camp out in his room after the last panic attack, despite Benders vicious, although empty threats. It was just as much endearing as it was irritating.

Sam was the first to speak after a long time.

"You haven't taken your meds in a couple of days, I think you probably should."

Bender sighed and nodded. It's not like he _forgot_ he was sick, he just didn't like to be reminded. Made him feel even more powerless than he already was. But he didn't have much time to think about it, because Sam was talking again.

"Bender, Dean found us a case."

"Yeah?" Bender asked, slightly excited. Anything beat laying around in bed all day. He tried to sit up, but the motion pulled on his stitches and he whined, collapsing back against the bed.

"But you're in no shape to come with us," Sam said gently but Bender just scoffed.

"If I can still hustle with three broken ribs and a busted jaw I think I'll be fine."

Bender went to sit up again but Sam held his shoulder firm.

"Bender, no. These things, they're way stronger than humans, better fighters too. If you go in there unprepared, you could die. I don't- I can't be responsible for that."

Bender opened his mouth to fight more but then he saw Sam's face. The guy looked like he was about to cry. It made Benders chest tighten in a weird way. He couldn't quite place the feeling.

"Alright, when will you guys be back?"

"It's upstate so probably no more than 3 days. Dean said he could handle it himself so I was going to stay here-"

"I don't need a fucking babysitter Sam." Bender bit out, harsher than he meant to.

"I know, I just thought-"

"Unless-,  _Dean's_ making you stay.” Sam’s face flushed. “That’s it, isn’t it? Wouldn't want to leave a criminal unsupervised in your precious home."

Sam sighed heavily and pushed his hair back.

"Look, Sam," Bender started, his voice softer this time, "I'm not gonna- I wouldn't do that to you. Not after everything you've done for me."

Sam smiled smally at that, taking Bender's hand under the sheet and squeezing it gently.

"I know you wouldn't. Listen, will you call me if you start to feel worse? We've got plenty of pain killers and first aid stuff. But if you need something else, call?"

Bender doubted he'd need to, but Sam didn't look like he was leaving without an answer. Bender gave him a firm nod and Sam's posture relaxed.

"Thank you, we'll uh, see you in a few days?"

"Yup,"

"Kitchens around the corner, bathroom is next to my room-"

Bender snorted, "I got it Sam, go."

Sam gave him a wave and a small smile before taking his leave.


	8. Castiel

When Bender could finally stand without wincing, he decided to explore the bunker. Sam and Dean had only been gone for a little over a day and Bender had seen just about enough of the beige, popcorned ceiling. Other than the bathroom and his ‘room,’ he hadn't really seen what the rest of the place looked like. 

It was fucking huge.

The garage  _ alone _ could fit at least three of Bender’s house. It was filled with at least 20 different vehicles, a combination of sport and utility, a few ATV’s and a two motorcycles. Bender was particularly fond of the vintage motorcycle in the back corner. The thing looked straight out of the 40s. He wondered if Sam knew how to ride a motorcycle, it seemed more Dean’s style.

His stomach predicted the next place to explore, and shit Bender had never seen a fridge so stocked. On good days when his mom was still alive, there'd be milk, eggs, sometimes fruit if she had the food stamps for it. But after she died, the only thing they ever had in the fridge was booze. Bender got used to having sleep for breakfast and dinner. Some days at school Allison would take pity on him and share some of her lunch. He smiled at the thought of her. 

Bender dug through the fridge and frowned at all the healthy food. Had these people never heard of take out? He figured he could cook something, but a bag of chips seemed a lot easier. He pushed a couple cans of beer under his arm and took his snacks to the meeting style table in the next room. Seemed a little ridiculous to have a table that size for two people, but maybe it was some rich person status symbol that he’d never understand.

The loud pop of the barbecue chips bag muffled the sound of feather ruffling behind Bender. He barely got a chance to bite into a chip before a strong grip was around the back of his neck and his face was tasting the mahogany table.

Panic and pain spiked hard in his chest and he let out a strained shout as he tried to twist free. The grip on him was strong, terrifyingly so, and Bender attempted in vain to crane his neck to see what the source of it was.

“Where’s Sam and Dean?” A gravelly voice spouted hotly in his ear, making the panic in Bender’s chest raise even more. He struggled speak for a moment, the sudden onset of anxiety swelling shut his vocal chords.

“T-They’re on a hunt, I-I don’t know where-” he managed to get out, but the grip only seemed to tighten at his answer, “please- l-let me go.”

“Who are you?” The man spat and Bender struggled hard, knowing he was tearing loose the stitches Sam had just mended.

“B-Bender, John. Stop, please man, you’re hurting me!”

“You’re friends with Sam and Dean?” The voice asked and Bender couldn’t make his voice work. Instead he just nodded.

The grip on his neck vanished completely, and Bender took the free moment as a chance to escape. Not looking back, he bolted for the door, barely reaching the bottom of the curved staircase when his legs froze mid motion. 

“What the fuck-“

“Please don’t leave. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Little fucking late for that,” Bender bit out, turning towards the source of the voice. 

The man sighed in what sounded like understanding, nodding once. “It’s, been quite a year. It’s difficult to know who to trust. If you promise not to run, I’ll stop. I just wanted to talk to you. Had to make sure you weren’t- well anything but human.”

Bender finally took in the man across the room, glaring in frustration and confusion at how a short, stocky man in a fucking  _ trench coat  _ could be rooting him to the ground. 

“I guess I should probably introduce myself. My names Castiel.”

“Whoa wait, the  _ angel _ ?” Bender raised an eyebrow and gave the man a once over. He looked completely ordinary, how the hell was he an angel?

“I see you’ve heard of me,” Castiel smiled, looking down shyly at his feet.

“Uh yeah, Sam mentioned you. No- no offense man, but you don’t really look like an angel.”

That made Castiel laugh, “You were expecting wings huh? Maybe a halo? More flair and less of a ‘holy tax accountant?’”

Despite everything, Bender cracked a smile. “Maybe a little, yeah.”

“Well you wouldn’t be the first,” Castiel smiled in understanding and lowered his hand, Bender felt whatever was holding his feet disappear. “I apologize again, if I scared you. As I said, it’s been a trying year. Hard to trust good guys from bad.”

“And that doesn’t just extend to monsters,” Bender muttered, his pulse relaxing to a more steady state as he regained the feelings in his legs. He retook his place at the table, grabbing his chips and eating now that he realized Castiel wasn’t much of a threat. 

“As unfortunate as that is, you’re right-” Bender saw Castiel’s eyes widened as they focused on his chest. Bender looked down and cursed as he saw his shirt start to bleed red.

“Did I do that?” He asked, crossing the room rather quickly. 

“Nah man, Werewolf,” Bender sighed, standing to search for some towels to stop the bleeding. He was forced back into his chair by the angel again.

“Wait hey don’t-” he tried to stop Castiel from touching him but it was too late, Castiel had his hand on his bloodied chest, pushing down firmly. Bender flinched at the touch, the sudden pain taking him by surprise. But just as quickly as he felt the pain, it receded, replaced by a blissful numbing sensation followed by a faint golden glow. And just like that, the pain and the blood were gone.

Castiel removed his hand and smiled. Bender’s mouth dropped open in shock. Did he just-

Bender yanked his shirt over his head and took in the lack of torn angry skin. The four long red gashes from Vernon were a faint pink now, completely healed over. Bender had to touch them just to make sure. 

“Holy shit,” Bender laughed, smiling when the touch yielded no pain. “That’s fucking handy. Bet you’re good in a fight.”

“Sam and Dean seem to think so,” Castiel laughed and took a seat adjacent to Bender, eyes naturally falling on the rest of Bender’s exposed torso. When he noticed the other scars, he frowned.

Bender could feel the eyes on him and immediately pulled his shirt back over his head. Maybe the guy would have some tact and not ask about them.

“What are those from?”

_ So much for that.  _

“Work,” Bender muttered, pushing his bag of chips away. He wasn't hungry anymore. 

“Are you a hunter too?”

“Not exactly.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion. Bender thought it made him look like a puppy.

“I don't understand, you said those marks came from a werewolf?”

“Well yeah those were, but not- not all of them. I told you, monsters aren't the only things you can’t trust.”

Castiel’s face hardened in understanding. “Mankind has always been exceptionally cruel to one another. You would think after thousands of years they would evolve to have compassion.”

Bender couldn’t help but snort. “You really are an angel, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Castiel’s face broke out into a smile and Bender felt his chest tighten in response. Holy shit, no one person, angel or otherwise, should look that good. 

“What are you doing down here man? Shouldn't you like, be in heaven or something?”

Castiel's face fell and Bender mentally scolded himself for making it happen. 

“Heaven isn't as grand as many people think. At least for angels. I find much more enjoyment here on earth.”

“Even with the monsters?” 

“Monsters are much more prevalent here yes, but I have friends down here, and two of the best hunters this world will ever know. That makes it worth it to me.” 

“How long have you known Sam and Dean?” Bender asked, surprised at how easy it was to talk to the angel. 

Castiel smiled, “quite some time. Some would argue since the dawn of creation. But our first meeting was when I pulled Dean from Hell six years ago.” 

Bender’s eyes about bugged out of his skull. “Dean was in Hell?”

“Yes, he had sold his soul to a crossroads demon after Sam died and-”

“Wait! Sam  _ died _ ?!’’ Bender sputtered.

Castiel chuckled at Bender’s state and relaxed back into his chair. “Perhaps I should start from the beginning?” he offered. 

Bender nodded in interest and Castiel smiled. This seemed like a pleasant way to pass the time while they waited for the Winchesters to finish their case.   


End file.
